


You're Ours!

by V1dreamer



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Family Dynamics, Gen, Platonic Relationships, References to Abuse, its emotion and mind games and nagi getting on people's nerves for a week basically, kira is the best mom by the way, mention of injury, raging is a terrible father
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-20 22:04:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16563986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/V1dreamer/pseuds/V1dreamer
Summary: After Nagi is injured during a performance, Raging gives the group a week to show that they're responsible enough to care for him. Failure will take the form of a six-person group and the debut of a new solo artist.





	1. SUNDAY

**Author's Note:**

> Hello ! I wanted to finally have a real shot at posting a multi-chapter fic, and this time I truly aim to finish it ! I hope you'll enjoy this rollercoaster as much as I do !

The energy from the crowd was electric. It was bright blue, just like the stage lights and Nagi felt as if he’d be able to walk on air, carried by the feeling alone. This had already been one of the best concerts they’d had in a while; every note, every movement was perfect, and each member’s harmonies intertwined beautifully. They could feel the beat of the music in their chests; a new, shared heartbeat encouraging them to push further and further with smiles on their faces. Nagi stood by Shion, gazing into the masses of people gathered in the stadium. Each glowing light they held in their hands meant something to him, reflecting in his eyes like little blue stars. It reminded him just how much the fans truly loved him. Nagi moved to the other side of the stage, preparing for the next part of the dance. He was giddy. He wanted to give them a performance they’d never forget. The beat kicked back in, and he turned on his foot in one swift movement. Too much drag. A sharp pain ripped up the side of his leg, starting at his ankle, spreading to his knee. He yelped into the mic, alerting both the audience and the rest of the group. Nagi dropped to his knees, crumpled. It took a moment for all of the group to realise there was truly something wrong, and that he hadn’t simply tripped. Inside, Nagi told himself to pick himself back up and walk it off, that his fans were counting on him, but the fire burning through his limb screamed otherwise. It rendered him motionless, his head ducked down in shame. This wasn’t very cute of him, he’d thought.

 

Eiji was the first to act. He bounded over to the smaller boy, kneeling with him and holding an expression of nothing but concern. He turned his microphone off for a second. “What happened?” He said, the noise of the stadium drowning him out completely. Despite his teary eyes, Nagi was able to read Eiji’s lips. He shook his head, mouth twisted into a grimace. Eiji glanced to his brother, who quickly motioned for the music to be cut off. The audience crowed with confusion and worry, all too aware of the sudden silence.

 

“Van.” Eiichi ordered, nudging the man with his elbow. “Talk to the crowd while I deal with this.”

 

Van responded with a nod, waltzing downstage. He waved a hand at the audience, bringing his mic to his lips. “My dears! We may be having some technical issues right now, but isn’t that a good thing? Let’s share our deepest secrets in this quiet moment together! I’ll whisper in your ears!”

 

Eiichi half-jogged to Nagi, and started trying his best to lift him back on to his feet again. Nagi hiccuped, having little luck trying to find his balance like a newborn deer. Stubbornly, he refused to cooperate at all, keeping one leg tightly curled up beneath himself. No matter how much encouragement Eiji was giving, or how much Eiichi pulled at him, nothing seemed to convince Nagi to move.

 

“I’ll take him.” A low voice spoke, a hand tapping at Eiichi’s shoulder. Kira. If anyone knew how to handle Nagi, it’d be him. Eiichi stepped back, letting Kira scoop the small boy up into his arms- as if he weighed next to nothing- and watched as he carried him backstage.

 

\---

 

It was an unusually quiet evening in the Heavens’ dorm. The hushed atmosphere, although peaceful on the outside, held an air of anxiousness. Whether it be concern for Nagi, or concern for what the consequences of this event would be, it lingered above everyone’s heads and festered like a plague. Shion had tried to hide in his closet again in attempt to hide from the worry, but Yamato had pulled him away from the doors and told him a few choice words about “facing your problems head-on”. Noticing the atmosphere, Kira had taken it upon himself to help Nagi settle down to sleep; he’d perched on the edge of his bed, hand outstretched, softly patting the top of his head. Nagi had revelled in the close attention, closing his eyes with a smile. Kira had also taken him to a nurse, after they’d escaped from the stage. He’d never bring it up to anyone, but his heart hurt for Nagi when the nurse was conducting an exam. He was still in Kira’s arms, and hadn’t stopped tearing up throughout, pressing his face to his shoulder to hide his pained expression. Nagi didn’t want anyone to see him. Not like that. Kira had felt so helpless in the moment, wanting to be able to do more than just hold him and tell him that it’d be fine. He wanted to get rid of the pain, and knowing that he couldn’t frustrated him deeply.

 

Eiichi had been the most unsettled about it. He paced around the common room, gnawing on a writing pen. Eiji, who was sat on the couch trying to read, found the tap-tap-tap from Eiichi to be quite a distraction. He hated having to see his brother in such a state, but he knew that it’d be extremely difficult for him to actually get Eiichi to be truthful about what was racing through his mind. He just hoped that he’d work things out soon.

 

“Eiichi?” A deep voice could be heard from down the hall. It boomed, bringing his actions to an immediate standstill. There was no mistaking who it belonged to. “A word, please.”

 

Eiichi had frozen in position, his feet stuck to the ground. Slowly, he straightened up again, putting the pen in his pocket. He had to show Eiji that he was fine. Clearing his throat, he began making his way down towards his father’s office. He had a terrible feeling in his gut that pulled and made him feel ill. Things like this never really seemed to end too well. Closing his eyes and taking a final deep breath, he pushed open the large doors.

 

“Do you know how many people we had to refund today?” Raging began, stood in the center of the room. His tone sent a chill up Eiichi’s spine. He was speaking in such a calm manner. Too calm.  
  
“No, father.”

 

“Sir.”

 

“No, sir.”

 

Raging took a long drag of his cigar. “Twenty thousand people.”

 

“It won’t happen again, sir. ” Eiichi felt cold inside. He wiped a sweaty palm on his trousers. “I don’t understand how this is my fault though-”

  
The older man grabbed him by the jacket, and shook him hard. “Idiot boy!”  
  
“Dad-“ He flinched.  
  
“You are the one in charge of choreography practice. Yet it’s plain to see you haven’t taught the small one enough safety etiquette.” Raging kept talking over his son, breathing smoke into his face. It clouded his eyes, burning and making them water. “Yet you dare to call yourself a true idol. His actions are _your doing_ .”  
  
After holding him up for far too long, glaring deep into his eyes, Raging finally let Eiichi free of his tight grasp. He scowled, turning his nose up at the boy. Slowly, he walked back over to his desk and sat down. He seemed to be thinking about something. More often than not, Eiichi never really knew what was going on in his father’s head. He wondered if it were for the best.

 

“You have a week.” He said, a horrid smile on his face. “A week to prove to me that you and your band of losers truly are capable of being responsible for a child.”

  
Eiichi took a moment to process his words, trying his best to ignore the insult that poked at his heart and laughed in his face. “And if you’re unsatisfied?”  
  
Raging chuckled- quieter this time, more sinister. “Heavens will say goodbye to Nagi Mikado."


	2. MONDAY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the urge to call this chapter 'gremlins day out' was almost TOO GREAT   
> hope you enjoy !

“What’s this about?” Yamato huffed, stuffing a towel into his backpack. He looked at the tiny boy in front of him, those warm grey eyes of his staring right through him. “My gym session begins in twenty minutes.”

 

“Today- you have the pleasure of accompanying me wherever I go!” Nagi chirped, balancing on his good foot. It seemed that the boy couldn’t put too much pressure on his other one without letting out a tiny yelp each time he rested. His leg had been wrapped tightly in bandages that poked out over the top of his boot, much to his dismay. He was convinced that it was jeopardising his aesthetic.  

 

Yamato’s gaze snapped to Eiichi for help, his face scrunched into a mixture of frustration and confusion. He zipped up his bag, putting extra emphasis into his actions in attempt to get his point across. Nagi wobbled over to the couch and fell on to it. He wanted to watch this. A frustrated Yamato was always amusing to witness.

 

“I told you last night-” Eiichi shook his head. “Eiji and I are on a shoot later today, Van is filming and Shion is… not here. You’re watching Nagi.”

 

Yamato scoffed, vaguely remembering Eiichi mentioning something along the lines of _Nagi-sitting_. “Get Sumeragi to do it.” He turned away again, checking the lid of his water bottle.

 

“Kira’s day is tomorrow.” Eiichi said, changing his tone. Yamato could feel those violet eyes on his back. He definitely knew how to get people to listen to him when he wanted them to. “You’re watching Nagi.”  
  
Defeated, Yamato looked to Nagi, who was pulling a thread out of the couch fabric. “Right.”

 

Eiichi smiled, triumphant. He checked his watch and turned on his heel. “Good. I’ll see you later.”

 

“Bye-bye!” Nagi sang, throwing his head against the back of the couch.

 

Yamato grumbled, swinging his bag up on to his back. He began making his way down the hall, his trainers squeaking on the wooden floor. Nagi sprang out of his seat in a hurry, wincing at the pain. He wasn’t about to be left behind. Walking as fast as he could, he trailed after Yamato. He felt a dull pain within his chest, a lump of frustration forming in his throat. This was supposed to be _his_ day. His interest was piqued again once he saw Yamato quickly turn and enter one of the prop rooms. Nagi racked his brain. He was sure that he was supposed to be visiting the gym, not the theatre. A large clatter sounded from within the prop room, and Yamato quickly rushed back out again, closing the door behind him. Nagi’s eyes widened. He was carrying two metal crutches.

 

“Look.” Yamato said, handing them to the boy. “I don’t know why you weren’t given these in the first place, but if we want to get anywhere today, it’s best to use them now. Got it?”

 

Nagi grinned, sliding his arms into place and finding his balance again. “Finally- getting the respect I deserve!”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Yamato sighed, starting to walk again. “Just keep up, if we’re late I’m blaming you.”

 

\---

 

Nagi couldn’t see why anyone would think that walking to places was efficient means of travel. Bias towards his injury aside, he just preferred to arrive in style; fans clamouring at the windows of a limousine, shouting praise at the top of their lungs once they saw a helicopter or private jet. Strolling, or rather _hobbling_ , through the doors of a gym just seemed incredibly ordinary. That, and incredibly boring.

 

“What am I supposed to do while you’re in here?” He protested, whacking at Yamato’s ankle with a crutch. “You’re supposed to be waiting on my every need!”

 

“No I am _not_.” Yamato snarled, quickly stepping away from him. He resisted the urge to kneel down and check the damage to his own leg. “You’re gonna sit down on a bench and go on your phone or something.”

 

Nagi responded by sticking his tongue out. The building smelled terribly of sweat and brightly-coloured energy drinks. He overtook the taller man in a hurry, on the hunt for somewhere to perch. He pretended that the odd glances he was gaining were due to his naturally cute, eye-catching charms, and not because he looked as if he belonged in a hospital bed. After finding a bench without anyone’s discarded belongings on them, he sat, leaning his crutches against the wall. He pulled his phone from his pocket, the charm attached to the case jingling slightly. He sighed, trying to remember who wasn’t working today. Neither Shion or Kira fared too well when presented with phone calls. They much preferred non-verbal means of communicating, usually through star emoticons and blurry pictures of wild rabbits. Nonetheless, he was going to try anyway. He hit Shion’s name in his contacts. The phone rang twice before it was declined. He opened his messaging app in defeat.

 

_Cannot talk, I am busy._

 

Nagi scoffed to himself, quickly responding.

 

_Doing what?_

 

A darkened image popped up on his screen. Shion’s features were aglow with the light from his phone, and he seemed to be wrapped in blankets. Nagi would’ve assumed that he was in bed, if it weren’t for the outfits hung above his head. He didn’t understand what Shion’s obsession with the closet was about at all. He watched as another message came through.

 

_Meditation._

 

Nagi giggled again, his back slowly sliding down the wall. Unfortunately, the amusement faded off quickly, fizzling out like a firework. He stayed slouched for a moment, not wanting to push himself upright again. Too much effort. Eyes wandering to the various people around the room, he tried to pinpoint where Yamato was. It wasn’t too much of a task to find him; his bright, off-yellow hair stood out as if he were a glow stick in a darkened room. He was on one of the treadmills, looking as if he were trying to outrun the person next to him. Typical Yamato. Nagi felt as if the roles had been reversed; he seemed to be the one filling the supervisor role. He slid from the bench and took his crutches back under his arms. If he were going to spend an extended amount of time in here, he thought, he was going to make it fun.  
  
“Hello! Nice to meet you!” He said cheerily, wandering up to the first person he saw. They were trying to lift weights. “I’m going to be your personal trainer today!”  
  
The person looked him up and down with a raised eyebrow, noticing that he wasn’t exactly shipshape. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, kid?”  
  
Nagi tutted. If he were able to cross his arms, he would’ve. “Of course- what do you take me for? I push myself so I can understand other people’s limits.” He shook his foot at them to make a point.  
  
“Alright.” The lone person decided to amuse him. “What do you suggest?”  
  
Nagi raised a pointer finger, waving it about in the hopes of coming across as more authoritative. “First of all- you’re not going to get anywhere doing that. Use one of those big weights over there.”  
  
The person began to regret their choice in personal trainers.

 

Yamato could feel fire burning within his chest, pushing him forwards. Sweat glistened on his forehead, and his legs had started to feel heavy long ago. He shook his head, turning the speed up a notch. He wasn’t finished yet; he noticed that fatigue came in stages, and planned to work up enough adrenaline again to shake off the weight pulling him down. Grinning to himself, he turned to grab his water bottle, not missing a step. A crowd had started forming at the other side of the room, he noticed. He wondered if anyone had gotten hurt. His gaze lingered, morbid curiosity getting the better of him. The crowd didn’t seem shocked or upset, instead they seemed excitable. Yamato turned the treadmill off, stepping down from it in curiosity. Maybe someone was breaking a record. As he wandered closer, trying not to seem overly interested, he noticed that something seemed off. A lot of the people were shouting or squeaking. Then, he heard it.

 

“Step back a second! There’s enough cute for everyone-” Shouted a voice from the middle of the group. “Stop! You’re hurting me!”

 

Nagi was completely surrounded. He was used to attention, he adored it, but never at this scale. He wasn’t sure how it started; at first there were just a few people seemingly admiring his ‘coaching’, but slowly the amount of people grew and grew. He’d been recognised, and now people had begun piling into the building just to see him. The downside was, there were no red carpets or velvet ropes to keep people at a distance. They were clamouring him, pushing and stepping. It hurt. He tried to keep up his faux-confidence facade up as long as possible, but his heart was racing and he wasn’t being listened to. He was drowning.

 

Something sparked inside Yamato. He towered over the crowd, amber eyes ablaze. “Move out of the way- _right now_ \- before you regret stepping in here in the first place.”

 

The crowd slowed to a halt. Their eyes widened at the man looming above them. They knew who he was and excitement lit up their hearts, but weren’t about to argue with him. Not at all. Sheepishly, the crowd parted and Nagi was able to break free. The small boy held his head high, resisting to look back as Yamato guided him towards the entrance, grabbing his backpack along the way. That was enough.

Outside was quieter, more serene. The gentle sun was soft and warm on their faces. Yamato walked a step or two behind Nagi, silently making sure that he was alright.

 

“We’re going home now?” Nagi asked, turning his head a little.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Good.” He sighed, trying to ignore the throbbing in his foot. “I want to nap. I’ll play the hiding game with Shion or something.”  
  
Yamato rolled his eyes in mock disappointment, laughing to himself. “God, not you too- there’ll be no more room in that damn closet by the time you’re done.”

 

After helping Nagi get back up the many stairs to the entrance of the dorms, Yamato let him go about as he pleased. However, before he left, he dug around in his backpack, retrieving a small wrapper. He handed it to Nagi.

 

“It’s a cookie. Usually I’d eat one after working out, but-” He looked at the boy with half a grin. “You seem to need it more than I do today.”

 

\---

 

Eiichi found himself in the centre of his father’s office again that evening. He could tell that he wasn’t pleased, and that familiar feeling in his stomach quickly crept back. He was never truly sure what would be pinned on him next. The thought that any action had the potential to come back and bite him burdened him constantly, crawling over his back and whispering in his ear.

 

“You left Mikado under Hyuga’s care, yes?” Raging said, slowly drumming his fingers on the desk.

 

“I did, sir.”

 

“Bad, bad decision, boy.” He said, not caring about looking him in the eyes. “I’m disappointed.”  


Eiichi was taken aback, his eyes wide. He didn’t understand. “Yamato is perfectly capable of supervising someone younger than him-”

 

Raging silenced Eiichi by slamming his fist on the desk. The sound sent a tremor straight through him. He swallowed hard, keeping his composure. Weakness was to be hidden. Weakness was for losers, and losers don’t survive in the industry for long. That was a given.

 

“Eiichi,” Raging continued. “Are you aware of the environment Nagi was exposed to today?”  
  
“No, sir.” He lied. He knew that Yamato worked out on his days off, but refused to admit it right now. Often, telling a lie to his father brought about less pain than if he was truthful.

 

“Wouldn’t you agree that, considering Nagi’s current state, a place designed for physical activity is the worst place to visit?”

 

Eiichi hesitated. “Yes, sir.”

 

“And not just that-” He said, slowly raising his voice. “You let the poor, small thing get _mobbed_.”

 

Eiichi averted his eyes. He hadn’t been told about that, but of course his father had. He has eyes everywhere. “I didn’t know-”  
  
“That’s your problem, boy. You know nothing. You need to learn to think ahead, maybe then we’ll be able to avoid catastrophes like this, won’t we?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Eiichi said, staring at the patterns on the carpet. He wondered if he stared long enough, he’d be able to burn holes in it.

 


End file.
